Thirst
by LadyVegeets
Summary: There's a new water delivery man at Capsule Incorporated, and he's looking like a tall drink of water.


The morning sun shone brightly through the high-rise office window of Capsule Incorporated. Bulma clicked open her compact to check on her make up. She had taken extra time that morning with her appearance, blowing out her bangs and using her best products to turn heads and break hearts — or at least one in particular. She was meeting her ex for lunch. Yamcha had promised to return the key to her apartment. Though the romance in their relationship had long fizzled out, Bulma's vanity was still intact; she wanted her ex to really _feel_ it when she walked away from him for the last time.

Smiling at her reflection, she snapped the compact shut. Perfect.

The day's paperwork rested in a neat pile on her desk. She pulled it forward and started looking over the files. The soft ding of the elevator as it arrived on their floor was mere white-noise to her ears.

"Water."

The voice was gruff and unfamiliar. Bulma glanced up and had to do a double-take. That was _not_ the regular water guy.

"Uh… Break room is down there and to the right," the receptionist stammered, looking like she wanted to vanish into her chair.

The new delivery guy didn't offer so much as a thank you before sauntering through the office, carrying two hefty water bottles and a heftier scowl. The bottles must have weighed five gallons each, but he bore them with ease, one slung over his left shoulder, the other nestled against his tight waist.

He was a fighter. It was clear from the way he was built. He was used to pain and handing out punishment, and Bulma was suddenly recalling every bad deed she'd ever done and needed disciplining for.

It didn't help that the guy's outfit screamed 'bad man'. His navy tank-top hugged his torso and pectorals in a manner that put Captain America's uniform to shame. An orange long-sleeved shirt wrapped in a loose knot at his waist over a pair of working trousers. He could have been Mr July from a working-mens pin-up calendar.

Magic Mike, eat your heart out.

"Damn," Bulma whispered softly to herself, biting her lip as the guy moved towards the break room with single-minded purposes. He was a predator in the savannah, making a b-line for the water hole and expecting the other animals to give way.

Her eyes drifted admiringly over his back as he moved past her desk and disappeared around the corner.

She picked up her phone and hit speed-dial 4.

"Son's Water Services. Goku here."

"Goku. Too good to deliver water to me now?"

The voice on the other end of the line laughed good-naturedly. "Bulma! I take it you met the new guy?"

'Met' implied there had been words exchanged, but Bulma wasn't about to argue semantics. "You could say that. Chi Chi finally convinced you to hire more staff?"

"Ha ha, yeah. One too many triple-shifts. She hates it when I'm not there for her and Gohan. Hope you don't mind. Vegeta seems reliable though. You're in good hands."

God, she could only hope so. What she wouldn't do to be in Vegeta's hands, or better yet, have him between her thighs. "Uh, about that… I've been thinking about increasing our service."

"Oh?" Goku's surprise was evident. She heard the click of a computer mouse as he pulled up her file. "You sure? According to our records your weekly delivery has been meeting your needs."

"_Needs change_." Bulma glanced up as Vegeta re-emerged, carrying two empty bottles from the break room. Without the weight of the water weighing him down, she could fully appreciate the limber play of his movements, the swagger of his stride. A beast of prey barely caged in human form.

Fuck, he was stunning.

"I think we need a daily delivery."

"You sure?" Goku didn't sound convinced. "That's a lot of water, Bulma. Did you hire more staff too?"

She was still tracking Vegeta as he headed across the floor. His eyes were narrowed but sharp, lingering on people and objects only long enough to ascertain their threat level as he navigated through the office. Everything was beneath him. His arrogance spoke to her own. Bulma let her fluffy blue tresses fall over her face to better spy on him.

It was foolish to think she could do so unnoticed. Maybe it was his sixth sense, or an overly keen sense of observation, but Vegeta's black gaze suddenly zeroed-in on her and _stuck_.

Every atom of oxygen was sucked out of the room. Bulma didn't care. What was air when the king of jungle himself had acknowledged her? Her female vanity preened under the attention. She sat up taller, matching his hard gaze with her own and allowing her cherry-red lips to curl into a self-satisfied smile.

Something flashed in Vegeta's eyes. A wary curiosity. An alpha sniffing out another in his territory.

"Bulma, you still there?"

"I'm still here," she answered, but her attention was fully on Vegeta. He finally broke eye contact before passing her and reaching the elevator. As the shiny chrome doors slid shut, his eyes sought her out once again. And then he was gone.

"We didn't hire any more staff," she told Goku wistfully. "I'm just suddenly feeling very thirsty."

* * *

~xoXox~

**AN**: Inspired by a sketch from **Nala1588**, of Vegeta delivering water bottles to Bulma's office. There's something so evocative about her AU Vegetas 3


End file.
